


Constellations

by templarsandhoes



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Flirting, One Shot, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:05:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7672957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templarsandhoes/pseuds/templarsandhoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although she's been on the surface for sometime now, Kaycee Brosca still had things to learn. Thinking Alistair might be of some help, she asks him a few questions one night at camp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constellations

Kaycee sat with her legs to her chest. The fire crackled and popped, each noise surprising her slightly. She shivered. Constantly. The damn surface was so cold. There wasn't a moment she missed Orzammar, never missed Dust Town. But sitting here at camp, the cool, damp Fereldan air hitting her face; her brand new start on the surface was less glamorous than she imagined. 

The tent flapped open behind her, but she didn't turn around. The fur she kept around her shoulders started to slide down. She adjusted it, while turning around towards the man walking towards her. 

Alistair smiled when their eyes met. “Nice night, isn't it?” he asked her, his voice as joyous as ever. Her welcoming smile was soon replaced by an intense glare. 

“Are you kidding? It's absolutely freezing, Alistair.” She pulled on the fur again. 

“What! No. It is absolutely beautiful out tonight, Kaycee,” he said. His lips gave away his teasing. She matched his smile, but her chattering teeth soon ended the staring contest. “Oh, you're just being dramatic,” he accused. 

“Do you have any idea how much warmer it is in Orzammar?” 

“It's not even that cold out tonight. And remember, I was raised by dogs so I know cold nights.” 

She giggled. “I'm sure your knowledge of cold nights surpasses mine,” she started. He looked at her, satisfaction coloring his skin. “I can't wait until we get to Orzammar. Then you'll understand,” she said. Her grin quickly faded. He immediately noticed, his own grin fading, as well. 

“Are you.. how do you feel about going back? I know you said it was…” he started. She took a deep breath. 

“Alistair, it was hell. When I had to join the Wardens, I was relieved. I never wanted to go back,” she said. Her words were slow, well thought-out. Her past was shady, filled with crime and deception. She hated the Carta. Hated them. But they were the only way for her sister and her to stay alive. She shuddered when she remembered some of the more… colorful memories. Alistair noticed the frown on her face. He was about to speak when she started again. “I was essentially exiled. And this…” She pointed to her face, the tattoo that screamed Casteless. “It… Well. I suppose you'll see how exactly the Dusters get treated when we get there.” Another deep breath. “But it's not all bad. I might see my sister again. Ancestors, I missed Rica.” 

“What's she like?” he asked, his voice quiet and calm. 

“She's beautiful. More beautiful than I could ever dream of being,” she said. Kaycee’s brown eyes drifted towards the fire, her smile lighting up slowly. Alistair watched her closely. 

“I'm not so sure about that,” he offered. Their eyes met again, both of them blushing slightly. 

“I hope you still feel that way after we see her,” she joked. The smile faded quickly. “If we see her.” 

“Well, we’ll have to see her. I have to prove to you that no one is more beautiful than you.” 

She chuckled. “You know, no one ever told me men on the surface are this… romantic,” she said, a hint of teasing on her lips. 

“Oh it's not all men. It's definitely just me,” he said. She laughed, and it was contagious. 

“I haven't met enough men to properly judge that.” Alistair’s face quickly hardened  

“No, no. You have to trust me. I'm the most romantic. You won't have to look any further than this man right here,” he said, his words coming out quick. She laughed again, her head falling back. Long brown hair cascaded down her back, Alistair’s eyes watching the strands closely. The long brown hair that were usually in two buns behind her head. She rarely wore it down, and he only had the privilege of seeing it down a few times. Her brown eyes found his again, her smile hiding her teeth. 

“Then tell me, Alistair. What is your idea of romantic?” 

“Well… It’s probably not much different than your idea of romantic.” She shivered again. “Maker, are you really that cold?” 

“Yes! I've been trying to tell you that!” she exclaimed, giggles escaping her chattering lips. He shook his head as he stood up. “Where are you going?” she asked. 

“Just stay there,” he said, walking back towards his tent. She rolled her eyes and turned back towards the fire. She watched the flames dance up towards the sky, watched as the Sparks turned into stars. Kaycee didn't know how many stars littered the sky. She laid on her back, looking up at all of them. Her eyes couldn't focus on one… what were they called? His footsteps were heard. 

“Hey, Alistair. What are groups of stars called?” He sat down next to her. 

“I believe they're called… constellations,” he explained. He placed a quilted blanket over her legs. 

“Thank you,” she said, adjusting it slightly. It had a distinct smell of the polish he used on his sword. It reminded her of Orzammar, but only slightly. The scent was familiar, but it was also unique to him. He laid down next to her. He was so tall compared to her, but she never felt intimidated by him. “Do you know anything about the constellations?” He got comfortable.

“Of course. I learned all about them in the Chantry. See that one?” He pointed up. Her eyes followed his finger, finding a group of stars. 

“The one that looks like a flower?” 

“It doesn't… anyway. That one is called…” he started. He hummed as he thought about the name. She looked towards him, watching his nose scrunch up slightly. “It's called Andraste’s Knickers.” 

“Really? That’s… a total lie.” She started to laugh. 

“I'm being completely honest with you,” he said. Another laugh. He had a hard time keeping a straight face. 

“I can't believe I even asked you,” she said, nudging his side. 

“I don't blame you. I just look very smart.” 

“You look… something,” she said, her smile growing. He looked down at her. 

“Well that's just cruel…” 

“You shouldn't lie to me, then,” she warned. 

“Fine. I won't lie to you, and you won't hurt my manly feelings,” he said, adjusting his position slightly. He wasn't completely on his side, but he didn't have to strain his neck so much to look at her. She laughed, then turned her head back towards the sky. He studied her for a moment. She didn't look… dwarfy. The few dwarves Alistair had met were old, and had long beards on their faces. She was… beautiful. Her nose was small, too small for her face, if he was being honest. But he found it endearing. Her cheeks were rounded, her eyes big. Even her tattoo, a brand bestowed on her to show how worthless she was, fit perfectly on her face. He fought the urge he had to lean over and press his lips to it, to tell her that she means something to him. Alistair truly didn't think he'd ever seen a woman so beautiful, and that surprised him. Scared him, even. He was lost in his thoughts when she turned to look at him. He quickly turned his head, cheeks burning. 

“Something wrong, Alistair?” 

“What? Why would you say that?” 

“No reason,” she said. He could tell she was smiling. “If you happen to see a book on the stars, let me know. Maybe we could learn a thing or two about them.” 

“I hate reading,” he said quietly. She chuckled, pulling the blanket closer to her chest. The chattering came back. “Why don't you get back in your tent. It might block some of the wind,” he said, quickly. 

“Alright. It's getting pretty late, anyway.” They both sat up. She started to hand him the quilt he brought out. He held his hand out, refusing it. 

“I get hot during the night anyway. Might as well go to someone to actually needs it,” he explained. She looked down at it, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“That's too kind, Alistair.” 

“I'm making up for the lying.”

“Good,” she said, laughing. She stood up, gathering the quilt and the fur. “See you in the morning.” She turned to walk away. He watched her walk back to her tent, exchanged a smile as she disappeared into it. He sat by the fire for a few more minutes. If anyone came out, they'd be witness to his blushing. He thanked the Maker that  _ if  _ anyone saw him, he could blame it on the fire.


End file.
